


The Crystal Flute

by Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener



Category: Superman: The Animated Series, 幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files
Genre: Alfred rocks, Batman is God, Crack Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Don't accept flutes from strangers, Kurama is horny, M/M, Mpreg, Plot Devices, Superman is dense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:58:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4501671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener/pseuds/Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A stolen treasure from the Reikai surfaces after 100 years, but returning it to where it belongs won’t be a simple job when unexpected guests become involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Yoshihiro Togashi owns Yu Yu Hakusho, Batman and Superman from "Superman: the Animated Series" are both DC properties.

Cameras flash as the monumental agreement takes place right in the heart of Tokyo. Handshakes are exchanged between Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises, Emil Hamilton of S.T.A.R. Labs, and Kuro Sanza of Shirakotatsu Labs. The three conglomerates will be working on the United Nations plan “Project Sun Catcher.”

Project Sun Catcher is an ambitious undertaking to provide clean energy for the entire world, from its largest cities to its farthest corners. It is estimated that it will take several years to achieve, but with these three influential and powerful corporations working together it is hoped that the timeline can be significantly shortened.

With them is Superman, who has offered his services once they are ready to begin building the Sun Catcher space station.

They have met in Japan for two reasons. The first is so S.T.A.R. Labs can officially create a Tokyo branch. The second is because Kuro Sanza suggested an exchange of gifts to show goodwill between the normally competitive companies and countries. The director of Shirakotatsu had made it clear that the gift he wishes to bestow on Bruce Wayne cannot be taken out of the country by his own hands due to traditions.

Great anticipation fills the room as the gifts are presented. Unsurprisingly, the items are of cultural value: paintings, sculptures, and the like. Then Sanza brings out a wooden chest with intricate carvings.

“This has been handed down to me from my great-grandfather, who had been the keeper of a shrine. The story passed down is that he came in possession of this item after defeating a man-eating demon. My family no longer owns the shrine, but we did retain this. I have always been told that this must never be made to leave, only to be freely given.” With that, he opens the box to an object that positively glitters in the light.

Everyone is so mesmerized by the ethereal crystal, that nobody notices Superman flinch at its reveal. The Kryptonian can see that it’s a flute of some kind, a finely crafted flute with tiny details etched all over its long, thin body. It appears delicate but there seems to be some sort of weight to it, a heavy power that it shouldn’t have.

“This flute is called Hinoiri, or Sunset, and now belongs to you, Mister Wayne.”

“I am deeply honored, Sanza-san.” Bruce accepts the box and proudly shows it off for the reporters to snap pictures of. Superman keeps a piercing gaze on the mysterious item.

Once the morning conference officially ends, much of the crowd disperses to head to a local convention center where an afternoon fundraiser for underprivileged children is being held, sponsored by Project Sun Catcher.

Bruce returns to his hotel room to get changed. Superman is already there waiting for him. “Need something?” His tone isn’t the easy-going, friendly voice of the playboy billionaire, but that of the hardened crime-fighting vigilante Batman.  
“There’s something wrong with your gift from Kuro Sanza. It could be alien in origin.” His eyes track Bruce as the man switches shirts and jackets for the fundraiser.  
“Demon, alien, I’m sure it was all the same to the monk. Is it dangerous?”

The human’s nonchalance makes Superman frown in annoyance. “Not that I can tell, but I can’t be certain. I should take it to my fortress for Brainiac to examine. Where is it?”  
“It’s already been taken to my private box in the hotel’s vault. You’ll have to wait.” He runs a brush through his styled hair. “Besides, I’m not the only one expected at the fundraiser.”

Superman pinches between his eyes. Normally, he loves attending charity events when he has the chance, but the flute has him worried. “You’re right, but as soon as it’s over-”  
“It’s been in that box for generations without incident. It can last until evening.” Bruce checks his appearance one more time before stepping away from the mirror. “I’ll see you there. Don’t forget to smile.”  
“You’re the last person I need to tell me that.” Superman steps out onto the room’s balcony and flies towards the sky.

Bruce smirks then locks the balcony doors.

Superman doesn’t head to the convention center just yet. There’s time before he’s expected, so he spends a few minutes sweeping the area. Even looking down into the vaults, he doesn’t see anything unusual. “Maybe I’m being paranoid?” he mutters to himself.

He had spoken too soon. In that moment, a shadow flickers across the room.

Superman narrows his vision, checking on the security cameras. He rapidly finds that in just the couple minutes he had turned his attention away, all of the cameras had been tampered with to display a cycle of looping footage. The Kryptonian zips back into the hotel. “Someone’s in your vault!”

By the time the Man of Steel manages to get down to the lower levels with his super speed, the intruder has extracted the small chest with the crystal flute from Wayne’s secured locker. “I suggest you put that back.” He’s shocked when crimson eyes lock on his blue ones. The burglar’s face and hair are covered by a white scarf. A long black coat engulfs his body, but even with that bulk it’s easy to see the stranger is petite in stature, almost like a child. There’s something not right with this person, but he can’t place his finger on why that is. 

Then, like the Flash, the boy is a blur dashing past him. Superman reacts immediately but misses grabbing the figure. He flies after the thief, right out of the building and into the streets. The robber, who it turns out isn’t as fast as Flash, is staying just out of his reach all the same. At the breakneck speed they’re moving, he can’t get himself in position to see the culprit’s face through the scarf with his x-ray vision, not while dodging around cars and other obstacles.

He nearly misses when the one he’s chasing tosses the box to the side.

The box is caught by…Batman?  
Well, not the real Batman. The person wearing the suit is too small in every way. A woman, perhaps?

Superman changes directions to chase the accomplice. Green eyes widen in surprise before the person disappears. Too late he realizes that the Batman impersonator went down by dropping into the sewers. He follows above ground using his x-ray vision, but it’s hard to keep an eye on the false Batman in the dark shadows. He waits for the light of a manhole to make his move.

The first thief suddenly blocks his line of sight, a silver blade slashing towards his face. The blade feels wrong, just like the flute had. Superman dodges at the last second. Then in a blast of speed the white scarf criminal is gone again.

Superman tries to track down either crook beyond the sounds of the city, but they both seem to have vanished. “Damn.”

The Man of Steel returns to the hotel. “I’m sorry, they got away,” he apologizes. The hotel manager smiles then bows, and his employees follow suit.  
“I’m sure they will be apprehended, Superman-san. Thank you for preventing the thief from getting away with anything from our vault. It would have been a black mark upon us.”

Surprised by the man’s words, he follows him to have a look himself. Indeed, the box that Bruce Wayne had received is back where it belongs. “How…?” It is the same box, that much he can confirm. Had there been more accomplices involved? How did they get the box back here so quickly? Was the flute inside, as well? Looking through the ancient wood, he can see the flute. However, he hadn’t felt anything from it the first time until the box had been opened.

“Mr. Wayne should check his things on his return just to be sure. I’ll take responsibility if anything is missing.”  
“Oh, no, Superman-san! It is our responsibility,” insists the manager. “We are still investigating how the thief got in, but once we learn how we will take care of the problem. This was due to our negligence in some area.”  
“No, I don’t think it was. The person I chased was a metahuman. I’ll have a look around, maybe they left something behind.”

Superman is escorted by the head of security, but they don’t find anything suspicious. The cameras are back to working as they should be, like they had never been tampered with. After examining everything with his super sight, Superman can only see what might be some kind of plant damage to the wires, but he can’t locate the plant.

The local police arrive and take over.

The Man of Steel arrives late to the charity event, but word had already spread about the hotel break-in and he doesn’t have to explain his whereabouts. An interpreter hurries over. “I’m afraid the perpetrator escaped, but he left empty-handed.” The reporters crowd in with more questions, which he waves off. “Thank you, that’s all I have to say right now. Please concentrate on why we’re here. The children need your attention, not me.” Superman leaves the group of reporters behind, flying to another floor.

The Kryptonian checks around for Bruce and finds him mingling with Hamilton, Sanza, and several others. Hamilton, being an older man with less patience, appears to be holding back his annoyance at the frivolous playboy, but the rest of the guests are rather charmed by him. Sanza, who is around the same age as Bruce, appears to be especially delighted by the American.

“He’s busy… I guess I should mingle as well.”

The fundraiser goes off without a hitch with tons of money raised for underprivileged children all over the world. Once final photographs are taken, Superman returns to the hotel to wait for Bruce.

“I heard you prevented a robbery,” Bruce begins as he walks up to the Kryptonian upon his arrival.  
“Or that’s what they want us to think.”  
“What did you find?” Bruce motions for Superman to follow him inside.  
“I need you to check your present. I have to confirm something.”

Bruce raises his brows in question but continues with him. “Did you see who it was? How many were involved?”  
“Two that I can confirm, and I was able to see one. Looked like a young female, mid to late teens.”  
“You’re not certain?”  
“She was dressed as Batman, and I don’t make it a habit to look below the neck, so no.”

The billionaire pauses at that. “A setup?”  
“I don’t think so. She took a route through the sewers, so maybe she thought it was convenient for blending in?”

Bruce is saved from having to comment by the hotel manager approaching them. They’re taken down to the vault, wait as the forensics team finishes clearing out after having spent all afternoon lifting prints and other possible clues, then the Wayne head goes inside to check his secured box. “Everything looks to be in order.” As was requested, he opens the small wooden chest.

The crystal flute inside is high-quality and extraordinarily beautiful, but it’s not the same one. It is identical right down to the smallest etches, but this flute is normal. It doesn’t have the same presence as the original. “I hate to say it, but this is a different flute from the one you received.”

Bruce’s gaze narrows. “I see. I don’t know why anyone would go through the trouble to steal it and leave a counterfeit in its place. When I spoke to Sanza-san about it, he explained that the story was the most he knew in terms of its history. It was authenticated as having been carved from selenite over a century ago, and it had to have been done by a skilled tradesman of high merit since it’s a difficult material.”

“Selenite, I know a little bit about that,” Superman interjects. “It’s a form of gypsum, and can be cut with a fingernail. But I’ve never seen it polished like this, the shine is almost unearthly. It’s like a completely different mineral.”  
“And you’re claiming this is a replica?”

Superman nods. “Whoever made this is just as skilled as the original artist, but it’s definitely not the same flute. I guarantee you that.”

“Then we have a problem.” Bruce closes the chest and slides it back into the box. “This means an unknown party has gotten their hands on an artifact of unknown properties.” He walks over to the door and knocks on it to alert the manager that they’re ready to leave. “Meet me in my room. We’ll discuss our next move.”

~*~

“Is this thing really it? All that hassle over a shiny stick?”  
“What a bunch of bullshit, man!”

Hiei sighs as Yuusuke Urameshi and Kazuma Kuwabara make a fuss over the crystal flute. Said instrument is currently cushioned on a pillow, inside of a glass box etched with wards. He pulls up a knee to rest his arm, then he leans back against the tree whose branch he’s sitting on.

“And why the hell are you dressed as Batman?” Yuusuke shifts his gaze from the artifact to Shuichi Minamino, a pretty boy redhead of good breeding and high-standing. However, in their social circles he was better known as Kurama.

Kurama is still suited up in the outlandish rubber suit while sipping a cup of tea. “Because I thought it would be fun.” Green eyes open and stare up at Hiei. “Right, Hiei?”

Hiei snorts and looks away. “You and your games, fox. Get out of that ridiculous costume already.”  
“Don’t you want to play with me first?”

“Eww! TMI, Kurama!” complains Yuusuke.  
“Ugh!” Kuwabara makes barfing noises. “I still can’t believe the fucking shrimp has sex!”

“Idiots.” Hiei resolutely keeps his crimson eyes on the darkening sky above, even as the green gaze from below burns into him. “Take it off, fox.”

The redhead chuckles and pushes back the black cowl. “As you like. Care to help?”

“Dammit it, Kurama,” Kuwabara bellows. “Stop it already!” The carrot-top makes a show of covering his ears and singing loudly to block out anything else that could offend his sensibilities.  
“Shit, dude, you’re way flirtier than usual today,” Yuusuke points out as he takes a seat by the flute.  
“I’m sure it’s your imagination,” Kurama responds.

Hiei throws a quick glimpse to his lover. The demon fox turned human has been acting strange today. Normally, Kurama has tight control over his behavior, but recently he’s been indulging in his playful and mischievous side. It’s much more like his youko personality had been, before he had been cut down in his first life, and before he had learned humanity.

Kurama does finally take the Batman outfit off. Turns out he had his regular clothes, a green button up shirt and a pair of blue jeans, under it the entire time.

“I’m still pissed off that you two got to square off with Superman and I didn’t!” Yuusuke’s whining can be heard halfway across the forest they’re holed up in. “Talk about unfair!”  
“We didn’t square off with him, Yuusuke, we evaded him,” Kurama corrects. “The alien is strong. I’m not sure how we would have fared if we had faced him directly.”  
“Aw, c’mon.” Yuusuke jumps back to his feet and does a couple of punches and a kick. “I could totally take him on.”

Kuwabara laughs and points a finger at Yuusuke. “In your dreams! Superman would whoop your ass!”  
“Fuck no, he wouldn’t!”

“I could,” Hiei states while lifting his katana then using his thumb to unsheathe the top of his sword. “He reacted to my demonic blade.” He lets his weapon fall back into its scabbard. “And I’m faster than him. Unlike you slow asses.”

Before a fight can break out, Botan, the Grim Reaper assigned to their group from the Spirit World, drops from the sky on her oar. “Hi, boys! Looks like things went just as planned!” The perky girl stops just above the ground then hops off, making her long blue hair flutter around her. After smoothing out her pink kimono, she trots over to the crystal object. “Oh wow, I didn’t expect it to so be pretty.”

“What’s so special about this thing, Botan?” Yuusuke is glaring through the glass again, as if blaming the flute for him not being able to fight Superman.  
“It’s known as the Isekai Flute.”

Kurama places down his tea with a soft clack. “Isekai? As in parallel dimensions?”  
“Yup. From what I understand, anyone who knows how to use this flute can twist time-space.” She smiles brightly. “Fortunately, there doesn’t seem to be anyone that knows how to do that anymore, but just in case we’re putting this back in the vault where it belongs.”

Hiei snorts. It wasn’t long ago that Kurama and he had been able to steal artifacts from that same vault, which is why they’re serving time as Spirit World detectives as punishment. “The brat should fix the fucking security.” The ‘brat’ is in reference to Koenma, the son of the King of the Dead and current interim head of the Spirit World. Said brat is also their boss.

Botan collects the glass case with the flute and hops back onto her oar. “Good job, guys! We’ll celebrate when I get back!”

“Hey, wait,” Kuwabara jumps in. “How we getting back home? I don’t have much money!”  
“I’ll take you all back, silly,” the blunette laughs. “Just after I store this away. Enjoy your break, go sight-seeing! Bye!” She takes off into the sky.

“Hell yeah! Vacation!” cheers Yuusuke. “Didn’t even have to pay for the train ride!”  
“I haven’t been to this part of Tokyo, myself.” Kurama picks up his tea again and finishes the cup. “It should be fun. Will you walk with me, Hiei?”  
“Whatever.” Crimson eyes turn away, but he drops from the tree to land on his feet.

There’s the sound of leaves and vines. “We can put our things for safekeeping here. My plants will keep them hidden.” The redhead has grown out a thick thorn bush with his demon powers, and he has already stashed his tea set back in his bag and placed his pack in the back along with the folded Batman cosplay. Neither Kuwabara nor Yuusuke brought anything with them, but Hiei eventually places his coat and katana there at Kurama’s insistence. “Superman saw you in those. We should play it safe.”

Hiei glares at his smiling lover. He hates leaving behind his sword, but he can understand the demon fox’s point. Besides, it’s not like he’s helpless without his sword.

Kuwabara and Yuusuke go in search of the nearest arcade while Kurama and Hiei take to the streets. “It’s so much busier here,” his lover comments to himself. Hiei can imagine silver fox ears perked and alert. He hides his amusement.

“Don’t look up.” The warning is spoken softly, just loud enough for Hiei to catch with his superior hearing. Outwardly he doesn’t react. “Superman is flying overhead.”

It’s likely that the famous Man of Steel is searching for the thieves he chased earlier in the day. Night has fallen and their appearances are different, but that’s no guarantee against the alien’s unknown abilities.

Amongst the noise of the city, Hiei catches other sounds; cloth in the wind, the creak of a steel cable, hard rubber soles on brick. “He has company,” he warns in turn. “They’re swinging between the buildings.”

The pair continues to act like normal teenagers for the next hour, but the superhero and his friend don’t seem to be going away. It’s clear that they’re being followed.

“He must have seen one of us with his x-ray vision, but I don’t think he’s willing to make a scene out in public.” A smile flutters across his lover’s lips. “Want to play with them?”

Hiei sends a fleeting look Kurama’s way. This isn’t his usual style, not as Shuichi Minamino: the perfect student and perfect son.

“Let’s separate and see who follows who. If we stay in crowds it should be fine. I’ll meet you at the Denny’s we passed earlier.” Kurama is rearing to go. Hiei can practically see his fox tail wagging in excitement. He has energy he wants to burn off.

“One hour,” he states with no room for argument. His lover laughs, his green eyes twinkling.  
“Alright.” He drops a kiss on Hiei’s bandaged forehead, to the surprised gasps of the strangers around them. Then he takes off down a different street of shops.

Hiei continues down the sidewalk he’s already on, his senses extended out to catch signs of his stalker. It’s the one traveling by cord. He abruptly twists around as if to backtrack to a shop window. He manages to capture a hint of a shadow.

It’s Batman. What the hell is the American vigilante doing in Tokyo? Did he come with Superman for some reason? How curious.

He stays in front of the clothing display for a few minutes, using the reflective surface to scan around him. The bat is good. The human knows how to hide in the shadows like a demon. Perhaps the man behind the mask isn’t as human as he likely believes.

It’s getting late by the time the hour deadline has passed. Hiei makes his way back to the Denny’s to wait for his fox. He gets them a table in the back and orders a coffee. After twenty minutes he’s prepared to use his third eye, the Jagan, to track the youko down, but Kurama finally arrives.

“Sorry, for being tardy.” The fox looks rosy-cheeked and satisfied.  
“Do I want to know?”  
“I promise all I did was wander the streets.”

They make their orders and then sit in companionable silence. Hiei can feel their pursuers lurking. One across the street at the top of a department building, and the other somewhere well above them. A simple deduction puts Superman as the one hovering over their heads.

“Let’s get a hotel room. I’m not expected home.” Crimson eyes open at his companion’s words. He studies his lover for a moment then shrugs.  
“That’s fine with me. I don’t care where we hole up.”

The rest of their dinner is taken up with Kurama’s idle chatter, telling Hiei what he had seen while on his own. Plenty of clues to what Superman had been up to peppers his story. The red underwear hero kept his distance the entire time, even when he would have been out of sight. It lends to the theory that Superman is able to use his x-ray at quite the distance. “What about you?”  
“I saw a metal bat I might get.”  
“You do need a new one,” Kurama agrees. “Your old one is dented.”

Batman and Superman are on their tails. What will the foreign heroes do once they’re in private?

Kurama pulls out his cellphone. Hiei can hear the ringer until the click of the call being answered. “Yuusuke-kun, Hiei and I will be partying here a while. You can head on home when you’re ready. Yes, I said a party, a very private party.” The redhead laughs at the sputtering reaction across the line. “Have a good night, Yuusuke-kun.” He slides his phone back into his pocket. “Shall we go?”

If there’s one thing Kurama isn’t short on, it’s cash. The redhead gets them a suite at a nice hotel, when most humans his age can only consider a quick hour-long stay at a shabby love hotel.

Kurama discards his shirt, tossing it onto a chair. “That’s better. I do prefer more traditional clothing. Current styles are so restricting.”  
“So you often say.” Hiei pulls off his black tank top and drops it to the floor. He watches his lover sit on the bed, then he holds out an inviting hand.  
“Keep me warm?” Obviously the fox isn’t too worried about their inevitable company.

Hiei takes the offered hand and comes to stand between long legs. He allows the redhead to pull him into a series of kisses. Kurama’s kisses are stronger and more eager tonight. His body heat is quickly rising. It’s like the fox is entering rut, except it’s not his time. The moon won’t be full for another week.

A small laugh escapes Kurama between kisses. “Are you worried about our guests? I’m sure they’ll be here any moment.”  
“I don’t care about those nuisances.” He moves his mouth to his lover’s neck, sucking and nipping down the side of it.  
“Good,” the fox purrs.

They both catch the muffled sound of the balcony door being jimmied opened. With a swift motion, Kurama has the sheet wrapped around himself to maintain some measure of modesty. Or so it appears on the surface.

Hiei reaches over to the bedside lamp and clicks it on as a large shadow glides into their room. Predictably, it’s Batman in his full intimidating glory. Not a moment later, Superman flies in behind the dark suited man; not so intimidating, but still splendid.

Superman belatedly realizes their state of undress and looks away. Batman isn’t bothered a bit and steps forward. “You two have some explaining to do.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You two have some explaining to do.” There’s no chance that they’ll misunderstand him, Batman knows his Japanese is perfect. He narrows his sharp eyes at the pair on the bed. The black haired one with white bangs is deceptively young looking at first glance, but the corded muscle that makes up his upper body is too defined and mature for a kid. He’s probably in his late teens. The sheet obscures his partner from the chin down, as the legs had been pulled up as well, but the defined facial features are likely in the same age range.

The redhead’s smile is coy. He can read a lifetime of seduction in it. “Seeing as you handsome gentlemen are the uninvited guests, I will have to counter and say you have explanations to give. Really, what’s a lady to do?”

That statement feels wrong to the vigilante, like he’s missing something obvious.

He presses on. “Where’s the property you stole?”

The boy twists around to face them, his movements as fluid as liquid mercury. His skin is littered with scars, some clean and some ragged. There are bandages on his right arm from his hand to his shoulder. Blood-colored eyes are cold and calculating as he focuses on the superheroes. The teen holds himself with experience and intent. His façade is relaxed, but the muscles under his skin are tense and ready to spring into action. The girl shifts to press her chest against the boy’s back, her hands on his shoulders. She must be on her knees. “We don’t know what you’re talking about,” the girl claims with that same smile on her face.

“Superman?”  
“It’s definitely them," the Kryptonian confirms. "I can’t forget eyes like that.”

That isn't surprising to hear. Dark red eyes aren't a normal color, and while the girl's eyes are green there is something animalistic about them. The obvious conclusion is that she's as much a metahuman as the boy is. Animal characteristics usually give way to feral abilities like enhanced senses, speed, and strength. They should be prepared for her to give it as good as it gets, if they choose to fight.

That on top of the fact that the boy is faster than Superman, the duo could be trouble.

"Who hired you? Where is the item?" Batman is racking his brain for what he's missing. It's right in front of his nose.  
"We really don't know what you're talking about, Man of Bats." Whatever game the girl is playing, it doesn't involve a lot of modesty. She may have covered herself, which is becoming more suspicious by the second, but she's clearly nuzzling and rubbing against her boyfriend.

And that's what the problem with this whole scenario is. There's a shirt on the floor by the boy's feet, and one on the chair next to the bed. There are no shoes, pants, or underwear. And there's certainly no Batman costume.

With how amorous the girl is, she wouldn't care if the world saw her in her skivvies. She's hiding something under that sheet.

"Check them," Batman orders. He growls when Superman hesitates. "She's hiding something, check her."

A fox-like smile blossoms across the girl's lips. She releases her hold on her companion's shoulders. Without hesitation the boy leaps at Superman, little more than a blur. The girl jumps for Batman.

Batman is prepared for it and twists to match her movements, but she releases the sheets. Even though he had expected that, somehow the cloth moves faster than it should and it wraps around his head. There's the distinct smell of plant.

There's a loud thump followed by the sound of the balcony door slamming open.

Superman curses beneath his breath and jumps back to his feet just as Batman tosses off the bedsheet. "She's a he," the Man of Steel states before blasting out of the room.

There's no way for Batman to catch up, so he redirects his energy to combing the room for clues. They already knew the pair hadn't been in the room for long, but it's possible something was left behind.

The masked vigilante starts with the sheet that had been thrown at him, looking for the cause of its strange behavior. He doesn't find anything on the sheet itself, but he does notice a seed drop to the carpet as he runs through the folds. "Kudzu?" He had smelled the fragrance of something plantlike when the cloth had been in his face, but it would have taken more than a single seed. "A plant manipulator." If he hadn't already known one, he may have overlooked the kernel as something tracked in on the bottom of a shoe. "Why is it always redheads?" He seals it away in an evidence pouch.

He has explored the room except for the bed itself when Superman returns. “They got away.” Batman knew they would, which is why he makes it a statement instead of a question. He begins his close examination of the bed. “How fast would you say the short guy was going?”  
“At least Mach 5 would be my guess, but I can’t say if that’s his top speed or not. What have you found?” Superman begins to look around the room with his super sight.  
“The redhead is probably a plant manipulator. I found a kudzu seed in the sheets.”  
“Just the seed?”

“It’s possible that the manipulator is able to completely control the lifecycle, having the plant grow and regress at will.” Batman pulls out of a pair of tweezers from his utility belt and carefully plucks something up from the bedspread. It’s a single red hair, which he places in an evidence bag.   
“I found plant cell traces on the hotel’s security cameras, but I didn’t see any plants.”  
“Not surprising,” Batman comments. “See anything of interest?”  
“Not yet. This place keeps a clean space.”  
“People pay enough for it.”

“Wait, there’s something on the floor, an eyelash.” He accepts the tweezers from Batman and plucks it from the carpet. He drops it into the bag he’s given.

“I’ll have these checked and I’ll look into the hotel’s files on who paid for this suite.” The bags and tweezers are packed into his utility belt. “Whoever these kids are, they’re not amateurs. They didn’t bring anything personal in here to leave behind. They grabbed their clothes without missing a beat when they ran, and they knew each other well enough to communicate without words.”

“Could they be from a crime syndicate?” muses the Kryptonian.  
“Doubt it. They don’t fit the profile. Loverboy dropped you without breaking the floor, which would have been easy at hypersonic speed. It’s actually impressive that he held back to keep from creating damage.” Batman faces Superman, his expression stern. “They’re kids, but they know what they’re doing. We can’t underestimate them.”

Superman looks apologetic. “I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t do it again.” Batman heads for the balcony. “Sweep the edges of the city and check any nearby forests. It may not be too late to find something of theirs.”  
“Right.”

One express package delivery mailed out later, and Bruce is left waiting in his hotel room for Superman. He looks up from his laptop when the other man lands on his open balcony. There’s a brown paper bag in his arms. “What did you find?”  
“It’s the Batman costume that the taller boy had used, one of your tracking devices that I’m assuming you had stuck onto one of them, and there’s a note.” He hands the package over to the billionaire. “Unfortunately, I don’t read Japanese.”

Bruce pulls the cosplay out along with his device and the note. In neat handwriting is ‘Batman x Batman would be hot.’ It’s evident that the redhead had meant for them to find the cheap imitation getup. “It’s nothing important, they’re just egging us on.” He puts them back in the bag. “Where did you find them?”  
“In the forest just outside of town. I couldn’t find anything else, but I could make out that there had been two to three other people in the clearing they had been using. One of them could have been the Yuusuke person they had on the phone earlier. I think he used the word ‘party’ as a code word for him to get out of town.”  
“You speak Japanese but you can’t read it?”  
“I’ve been hearing it all day. I didn’t have a choice but to learn it.”

It’s the little comments like that where the genius billionaire is reminded that the often naïve Superman is far more intelligent than he lets on. He’s certain if the Kryptonian ever takes an IQ test he will break the charts.

Bruce sits back in his chair to think. “We’ll assume there’s at least five people involved in this case. There’s nothing else we can do until my lab results come in. I was able to hack into the hotel’s computer system, but the kids paid in cash and used a false name and address to secure the room. My computer is currently going through the public files to see if there are any physical matches to the camera footage I pulled.”  
“I’m pretty sure two-thirds of what you did is illegal.”  
“What’s your point? I’m a vigilante, not a cop.” Bruce pushes away from the desk and stands. “I have to pack. My flight is first thing in the morning.”

“Bruce.” Blue eyes rise up to meet Superman’s gaze. Being this close to each other, Bruce can tell that while the Kryptonian’s eyes are also blue, they’re a shade he’s never seen on a human face before. The best way he can think to describe them is that they reflect where the sky and the ocean meets. It’s one of the many small traits that proclaim the other man’s off-world origins. “You’re not blaming yourself, are you? It’s not your fault that the flute was stolen. There’s no way anyone could have known that metahumans would come for it.”

Bruce turns away with a half-laugh to grab his things from the closet, minus what he’ll be wearing tomorrow. “If I had given it to you in the first place, I doubt they could have gotten it. But no, I’m not blaming myself. Unexpected things happen, it’s called life.” He packs the clothing away in a rolling bag. “Go home, Kent. Get some rest.”  
“You can call me Clark. Kent is so formal.”  
“Maybe another time.”

A disappointed frown curves Superman’s lips. “Goodnight, Bruce.” He soars out of the room.

The vigilante pulls the Batman cosplay out of the bag again, staring at the cowl and trying to imagine one Clark Kent wearing it. Even in his imagination, the shy man from the middle of nowhere blushes and tries to hide inside the cape when he’s confronted by something outside of his comfort zone.

Bruce laughs. “He would make a terrible Batman.”

~*~

“Thanks for the ticket money, Kurama.” Yuusuke grins to the redheaded youko as they take their seats on the train. He and Kuwabara had spent all their money on food and at the arcade, so when Botan didn’t show up they were in a pickle.   
“It’s not a problem, Yuusuke-kun. I’m just happy we ran into you before we left ourselves.” Kurama frowns in thought. “But it’s strange that Botan never picked you up.”  
“Tell me about it,” he huffs. “I tried contacting her, but nada!” The raven-haired teen leans towards his friend. “Think something happened to her?”  
“I hope not.”

“It’s the likely scenario,” Hiei cuts in with an annoyed growl, both from the implication that something happened to their Grim Reaper, and the fact that he’s been forced to ride the train when he could be running instead.  
“But nothing’s come from the baby either,” Kuwabara argues. “Wouldn’t he have contacted us by now if something went down?”  
“That’s only if he knows,” Kurama counters quietly.

Yuusuke curses under his breath. 

The train comes to a stop and the group hurries out with the rest of the night crowd. Hiei is annoyed as Kurama continues to walk with Yuusuke and Kuwabara all the way to the intersection when they could have broken away sooner.

“Try contacting her again, Yuusuke.” At Kurama’s insistence Yuusuke pulls out his communication device. Before he opens it, it starts beeping from an incoming message.  
“Maybe that’s her!” Yuusuke flips open the compact.

The face on the screen isn’t Botan, but Koenma in his baby form. He looks like a toddler with an oversized blue hat and clothes, and the picture is completed with a round pacifier in his mouth. “Yuusuke! Botan was ambushed!”

“What?! By who?!” Yuusuke shakes the communicator.  
“We don’t know. Botan was unconscious when my agents found her. She was in need of extensive healing so I had her taken to Yukina-chan.”

Yukina is a powerful healer. Botan’s injuries have to be grievous for her to be taken there instead of being handled by Koenma’s on-hand healers.

“We’ll be right over,” Yuusuke shouts.  
“No,” Koenma snaps before Yuusuke closes the compact. “One of you should go to get Botan’s side of things when she awakens. The rest of you need to get on this case immediately before someone tries to use that flute.”

Hiei loathes the results, but it’s determined that Kuwabara will be the best one to go to Genkai’s Temple to wait for Botan to wake. Whoever attacked the Grim Reaper may want to finish the job once they discover she survived. Between the orange-haired one and Genkai, who is one of the human world’s strongest fighters and most powerful spiritualists, they will be able to handle just about anything. Yukina could also be a deadly enemy in a pinch and can work as their backup should it come to that.

With Koenma’s power, the rest of them are taken to the Spirit Realm to investigate the scene of the crime.

Hiei hunts around with Kurama and Yuusuke, but other than the obvious signs of the struggle that ensued, there doesn’t seem to be much in the way of clues to who their enemy is.

Yuusuke crouches down to poke at a clump of torn earth. “This looks like it was done with an earth-based ability, but it’s fucking weird that I can’t find the end result.”  
“I see evidence of fire over here. It’s normal fire from the looks of these burn marks.” Kurama winks at Hiei. “Not anything as fancy that you use, Hiei.”

Hiei rolls his eyes while Yuusuke makes gagging noises. “You got to flirt even here, man? What is up with you?”  
“Our party got interrupted, I’m horny.”  
“Interrupted?” As much as the raven-haired teen liked to tease Kurama about his amorous behavior, he doesn’t actually mind the flirting, he knows when it is time to be serious.  
“We’ll explain when we’re all together again,” the fox promises.

“I’m using the Jagan.” Hiei removes the cloth wrapped around his forehead and opens his third eye. The violet iris glows as he activates its power.

The pair waits quietly so he can concentrate, but it’s scarcely a minute before he closes his third eye and wraps it again. “Someone has the power to wipe their signatures clean. I could only find Botan’s traces.”

Kurama and Yuusuke frown. While in the grand scheme of things such a power isn’t a big deal, several weak demons have the ability, it will make it more difficult to find their opponents.

“It sounds like they knew Botan would have the flute and that she would use this route,” Kurama states. “But no one outside of our group was supposed to know about this mission.”

Yuusuke curses and slams his fists together. “I’ll beat the shit out of whatever rat leaked this!”

Hiei silently stares at Kurama. When his Jagan was open he saw something unusual. The youko’s aura was as it always is: bright and steady, a calm green like a tree. But the green is being contaminated by opal, the foreign power slowly spreading like a fungus. It has to be the cause of the fox’s unusual behavior. It could be the enemy’s doing, it could be a coincidence and something or someone else is at fault. If it is the enemy, it will be best to wait until their group is in private to reveal what he has found.

An Eraser can be hidden nearby and they wouldn’t know.

He would have dug deeper into the source of the contamination, but the energy didn’t have a clear outside feed that he could find in the few seconds he had checked. With the threat of a spy nearby he hadn’t wanted to use one of his trump cards so blatantly. If the enemy had seen, they may assume that he couldn’t use his Jagan for long.

When the chance comes up he will thoroughly examine his lover, then he’ll slaughter whoever is trying to control his fox.

Yuusuke’s communicator beeps. “Botan’s awake, guys,” Kuwabara informs them once the view screen is focused. “I’m talking to them right now, Yukina-chan!”

Hiei cringes. He can hear the hearts in the human teenager’s overtly chipper voice. It aggravates him that there’s nothing he can do about the infatuation Kuwabara has for the kind Koorime girl. Even worse, the ice maiden seems to like him back. He has no idea why. She can do worlds better than the bumbling idiot of a carrot top.

Kurama brushes their knuckles together. There’s a sympathetic smile on his lips. “Your sister is not a bad judge of character.” Hiei snorts.  
“I know that.”

Koenma sends another of his Grim Reapers to take them quickly to Botan.

The blue haired woman is lying down on a tatami mat when their group rushes in. Yukina is next to her, her tiny hands held out as she continues healing. Her mint green hair is sticking to her forehead and neck from the effort.

Kuwabara is sitting with Genkai by the open sliding door in order to stay out of the way.

The old woman looks as stern as ever with her arms crossed over her chest and a frown creasing her face. Her shoulder-length pink hair is sticking to her from sweat as well. It’s evident that she had first seen to Botan’s injuries, using her own healing powers. “She’s fine now, no need to rush,” she rasps. “I ordered her back to sleep after she told us what she could.”  
“What bastard hurt her?” Yusuke demands. “We’ll kick his ass!”  
“Calm down, you blasted fool,” Genkai snaps. “She doesn’t know who they were, and she never saw any faces.”  
“Then what did she see?” Kurama urges.  
“The broken sign of eternity.”

Hiei straightens at hearing that, and Kurama’s green eyes have widen.

Yusuke’s voice breaks the silence. “What’s the big deal? What’s it mean?” The team has fought a lot of groups and organizations over the years, but this is the first time he’s hearing about this one.

“Akaeien, the Red Eternity.” Hiei’s canines are bared as he says the name. “The followers of Baron Shinku.”  
“Baron Shinku,” Genkai rasps in an ominous tone. “The original owner of the Isekai Flute.” The old warrior’s eyes then lock on Kurama, who stiffens at the sudden examination. “And it seems that flute’s power has been triggered by our fox.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in search of a Beta should anyone want the job.

Inside the safety of Genkai’s kekkai, Hiei releases his Jagan. The purple eye glows as it scans Kurama. He can clearly see the foreign opal life force that is twining like braids in his lover’s green human energy. Just the sight sets him on edge and makes him bare his teeth. “I’m certain that it’s the same youki that had encompassed the Isekai Flute.”  
“But he was only exposed to it for that couple minutes at the party thing,” Yuusuke protests.

Kurama taps his chin in thought. “I do admit to feeling…more energized, since I initially saw the flute.” Hiei snorts at the understatement.

A young voice hums in stern concentration. Koenma is watching the proceedings through Yuusuke’s communication compact, which is being held by Genkai at the moment. “There must have been a trigger built-in. Baron Shinku had been crafty like that. Whatever failsafe or spell was put on it, it responded to Kurama’s presence alone.” He slides his gaze to the fox. “You’ll have to be watched until either we get the flute back and under control so we can cleanse your youki, or the flute’s youki is purged from you by other means.” The small god reels back in surprise when he sees that the redhead’s expression is full of glee. Right about now is when Kurama would normally be serious and grim in his typical practical style.  
“I’m sure Hiei will watch me very closely.” The hearts can be heard in his lover’s tone.

“Has… Has he been like this the entire time?” Koenma asks slowly, cautiously— like he’s afraid of the answer.  
“Yes,” Kuwabara replies with distressed tears in his eyes.  
“This needs to be rectified immediately.”

The annoying god looks away from the screen for a moment. There’s plenty of chaotic noise in the background. Hiei distinctly makes out the voice of George, Koenma’s right-hand ogre. “We have a trace on the Isekai Flute. It’s currently located in Gotham City, New Jersey, America.”  
“Gotham City?” Kurama finally looks serious. “That’s where Batman is.” Koenma raises a brow, especially since Hiei’s expression is even more serious than before.  
“Is there a problem?”  
“Batman had been with Superman,” the fox explains. “They confronted us about the flute.”

“What?!” Koenma’s shout just about makes Genkai wince at the octave he reaches. It’s almost impressive.  
“Shut up and calm down,” the old woman snarls. She pins her gaze on him and Kurama. “What happened?”

Kurama gives a quick explanation of how they initially engaged in the cat and mouse chase with Superman when they first retrieved the Isekai Flute, then the stalking game in the city, with the final confrontation in the hotel room that involved Batman. “Safe to say, they both know what we look like,” his lover finishes.

“It’s still completely unfair that you got to fight Batman and Superman,” whines Yuusuke. “I want to fight them!”  
“For the last time, shit for brains, we didn’t fight them. We eluded them,” Hiei corrects with an annoyed huff. He would have liked a straight-forward brawl, too.  
“They would have kicked the shrimp’s ass,” Kuwabara snickers. Hiei pings him on the forehead with a pebble right between his eyes. “Ouch! Hiei!”  
“Wasn’t me.” He knows his fangy grin says otherwise, but who cares?

Koenma exaggerates clearing his throat to regain their attention. “Yuusuke, you and Kuwabara will be on the investigation team. You’ll be accompanied by two other detectives for this case, and you’ll meet with another agent in our Americas branch when you reach Gotham City.”

Yuusuke and Kuwabara high-five like a couple of kids. “Free vacay!”

The godling ignores them and continues on. “Hiei, stay with Kurama and don’t go anywhere you don’t have to. You both are to minimalize your movements.” Hiei rolls his eyes. He doesn’t need the brat to tell him that.

“Do either of you idiots speak English?” Genkai questions the cheering stupid-duo. The pair freezes in mid-movement. Hiei laughs at the panicked expressions on their faces.

“Not to worry,” Koenma breaks in, “we have wearable translators for that.”

Well, that takes all the fun out of it. The brat could have let them wallow for the rest of the day first. They probably would have resorted to begging Kurama for English lessons, which his fox would have milked for pure amusement.

Hiei snorts.

“Back to the matter at hand,” the small God continues. “Baron Shinku is supposed to be dead, but for the purpose of this case we will handle it as if he’s alive. His body was never recovered and his soul didn’t past through the Reikai. We assumed it had been completely destroyed, but the possibility has always remained that he lives.”

“So what’s impressive about this dick and his flute?” Yuusuke asks while picking his nose. “Botan said something about time-space, but that means shit to me.” Genkai smacks him over the head, to Hiei’s enjoyment.  
“That’s space-time, dummy. With that flute, anyone who knows how to use the damnable thing can change the fabric of reality to suit their purposes.”  
“What, like, make it rain chocolate sauce?” the carrot-top spouts. Hiei rolls his eyes. The glare the old woman gives him could kill some demons.  
“I said that reality itself could be changed, and your first thought is to make it rain chocolate sauce?”

Kuwabara backs up several steps until he’s partially hiding behind a tree, a cold sweat already on his face. “S-sorry! Ignore me!”

Koenma’s high-pitch voice blares through the compact. “Be as it may, the flute is still dependent on the individual playing it. A C Class youkai will have more power and get better results than a D Class, but still won’t be able to do much more than win some horse races and other petty things. Once we get to B Class is where things start getting dangerous. They could manipulate events to favor themselves, such as disposing of enemies. A Class could change past events and take over kingdoms, possibly entire dimensions. An S Class would have abilities beyond the Gods, and that would really piss off my dad! We can’t let that artifact stay in enemy hands!” The mini God almost pops out of the compact because of how close he is to the screen.

Hiei rolls the warning around in his head.

An A Class could change the past by playing that flute? He could prevent Yukina’s torture by the humans, he could find his mother’s teargem, he could even heal Mukuro. His eyes slide to Kurama. He could claim his fox from the start when they first met, or have their paths cross sooner. He could make it that Yukina has always been safe by his side with Kurama as his mate.

If he was a Makai King nothing would stand in his way, not even King Enma’s barrier separating the dimensions.

Hiei closes his eyes and pulls in a slow, deep breath. These are dangerous thoughts, the same kind that landed him under the blasted Reikai’s thumb in the first place and why he’s working as a Spirit Detective as his probation.

But if he could make that flute work for him for just a few seconds…

Once the meeting breaks up, Hiei looks in on Yukina. She is obviously exhausted, but she’s determined to complete the healing of the sleeping Reaper. There’s color on Botan’s face now, an improvement from when they first arrived.

The ice maiden smiles when she sees him. It’s like a balm and a stab to his heart at the same time. “Don’t overdo it,” he tells her.  
“Thank you for worrying about me, Hiei, but I’m fine. Genkai and Kazuma have been keeping an eye on me.” The sweat on her skin cools off and flutters to the floor as snow. As long as she can still do that, he knows that her health isn’t in danger. Although it still irks him that she calls tall, orange, and stupid by his given name.

Hiei nods then leaves her to continue caring for Botan.

It’s annoying, but he takes the bus with Kurama to return to town. He would rather they run back, but the whole low-key shit means not standing out when there could be spies around. 

His fox cuddles up to his side and ignores the stares from other passengers. “I was looking forward to staying in a hotel with you,” Kurama sighs, half joking. “Sorry that you don’t get to chase down the enemy because of me, Hiei.” Hiei shrugs.  
“I prefer fighting over investigating.” Plus, he rather keep an eye on his lover for more of the strange behavior.

If he can track down where the opal energy is rooted inside of his lover, he may be able to purge the invasive youki himself.

Kurama leans down and nuzzles his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you anyway,” he promises with a purr. “I can’t let you go neglected.” A hand slides up his back. Something this simple is outside of the fox’s behavior. The redhead isn’t one to risk his reputation by being openly flirty in the middle of the public.

It’s annoying that he has to be the one to take measures to make sure that his lover isn’t indirectly injured by the foreign youki. Baron Shinku, if the bastard is still kicking, had better pray to his gods that he’s not the one to track him down. No one is allowed to mess with his lover and live.

He’ll obliterate his soul for the trespass.

~*~

Hours later sees Bruce Wayne in the Batcave working at his super computer, forgoing sleep for the time being because of jetlag.

The camera footage he collected has been considerably slowed down to allow Batman to watch the chase that Superman had participated in when the flute had first been stolen. Even at their high speeds, he can see that the black and white culprit is calm as he leads Superman away from the hotel. He has the suspicion that he can run even faster, possibly as fast as the Flash. Going frame by frame, it’s evident that he’s purposefully staying just outside of the Kryptonian’s reach.

The crook doesn’t turn his head or shift his gaze before he throws the box sideways. He had trusted his partner to be there.

His accomplice isn’t picked up well by the cameras in the immediate vicinity, thanks to his costume. Bruce rubs his eyes under the mask. Why the kid had to wear a Halloween costume of him instead of a typical black outfit with a ski mask, he has no idea. “Teenagers.”

The dark knight resumes watching, but once the fake-Batman disappears into the sewers he switches between several camera feeds to try and find where the redhead eventually exits. He picks manholes going towards the forest where the discarded costume had been found.

Finally, he locates the escape point.

The disguised teen shoves aside the heavy manhole cover then leaps out, flipping onto his feet with the box secured in his arms. The kid might be able to give Nightwing a run for his money. The sewer top is replaced, then he runs out of view of the camera.

Batman leans back in his seat. A certain amount of talent can be expected when people this young commit crimes on this level, but the liquid movements and snap decisions the two displayed show years of practice. At first he had thought they had to be from criminal families like the Royal Flush Gang, but that was quickly debunked when he uncovered the redhead’s records.

He switches to the footage of when he and Superman had shadowed them in the city. Not much is revealed there. They had been aware that the pair knew they were being followed right from the start, and neither of the boys slipped up.

The camera footage is closed, revealing a Tokyo news channel in the primary window. Nothing of note has played yet. Several other windows are also open: a few are separate American news stations, some are from his hidden cameras in various locations, and still a couple more display scientific reports.

Batman doesn’t bother looking away from the monitor as a certain flying visitor enters his Batcave through one of the secret entrances. 

“Aren’t you jetlagged?” Superman asks as he lightly lands next to where he sits at his console.  
“I’m fine.” Batman drinks from a bottle of water before continuing. “The eyelash was from the maid who cleaned the room.” The Kryptonian nods.  
“What are the chances the hair isn’t from our perp?”  
“Pretty damn small.” Bruce smirks. “Japan isn’t the most abundant in redheads, if you noticed.”

Superman momentarily rolls his eyes. He rarely performs the gesture, but when he does it’s usually because of Batman. “Yes, I noticed. I thought you would be able to find his public files with just his picture.”  
“I can and I did.” He pulls up a new screen on the monitor to show various publicly available pictures of the teenager, most of the recent images have him in a pink school uniform with gold trim. “Shuichi Minamino, born the 29th of December, age 17, straight-A senior and valedictorian candidate at Meiou High. He has above average scores on his annual physicals, normal medical files, and no criminal record. His peers call him The Perfect Student. He was a write-in winner for Student Council President, but he refused the position. He has an untroubled home life with a mother, step-father, and step-brother.”

While impressive feats and haughty accomplishments are common enough, it’s pretty unusual for their suspects to have such clean records. It makes Batman even more suspicious of the boy and his associates.

“How does someone like that end up stealing an alien flute?” Superman is staring at the pictures with a frown on his full lips. It’s obvious to the dark knight that the Kryptonian doesn’t like that their criminal is underage. He doesn’t like it either, but that’s the reality.   
“Good question.” He shifts his attention to the monitor when an alert pops up, and the window is replaced by a new one. “His bloodwork results are in.”  
“How did you get his blood sample?”  
“I have my ways.” And express shipment. It always pays to have people who owe you favors all over the world, especially in government, military, and hospitals.

The first readout is from his regular equipment. It claims that Shuichi Minamino to be a normal human; a fit and in-shape human, more so than most of his peers in the athletic department, but human.

“What’s the second readout?” He’s not surprised that Superman is able to tell what the report isn’t. Batman enlarges it for clearer viewing.  
“It’s something I developed for use on metahumans, since not all of them have abnormal DNA readings on standard machinery. My device reads the sample through other spectrums, light and radiation for example.” He highlights parts of report. “His analysis is similar to Poison Ivy’s. He’s definitely the plant manipulator.” His eyes narrow. “He also has feral traits.” Poison Ivy is dangerous enough with her ability to control plants, including their toxic properties and the like, but this Shuichi boy could be the eco-terrorist and Cheetah with her animal grace and ferocity rolled into one. The redhead may have claws to back up his thorns.

“Everything you initially suspected,” the other man acknowledges. “Ready for a home visit?”

Batman shakes his head and has the teenager’s profile expand to full screen. “Not yet. See his name? Minamino is reserved for royalty and high-class families. We play this wrong and we can cause an international incident in enemy territory. No, we need to catch him in the act.” He smiles to himself. Who better to catch someone in the act than himself?

There’s another alert. This time Bruce pulls up several security camera extractions.

“You do realize that this is illegal.” The disapproval in Clark’s voice is easy to distinguish.  
“You’ll get over it.” Both of them watch as the computer automatically highlights and separates out several figures from the footage. “These are Minamino’s main associates: classmates, neighbors, casual acquaintances, and presumably his clique.”

The clique group is further highlighted by red borders on their windows. There are three others in total, and one is the red-eyed teen who had helped to steal the flute. Of the other two young men, one is a teenager with slicked-back raven hair, defined muscles like a street fighter, tanned skin, and sharp brown eyes. The second one is a tall man with carrot-colored hair in a pompadour, a distinctive square jaw, also a street fighter’s build, and beady black eyes. The last two both have long lists of additional information on-screen.

“Those are… quite the rap sheets those boys have.” Superman seems perturbed. That amazes the dark knight, seeing as the alien hero lives in Metropolis, which has its fair share of young criminals as any sprawling city would. The Kyrptonian really should get used to it.  
“Yuusuke Urameshi and Kazuma Kuwabara, respectively,” Batman supplies. “In constant trouble from primary school through middle school, then they more or less dropped off the radar by high school. Something happened.”  
“Yuusuke,” the Man of Steel mutters as he stares at the mugshot. “That’s the name I overheard.”  
“Exactly.”  
“And what about the other boy?” Clark is in full investigative reporter form as he points to the short one they had originally encountered. The kid looks disgruntled in this particular snapshot. A pair of pointy fangs like a vampire can be seen under his curled lip. It’s almost certain that he’s another metahuman.  
“No official records. He doesn’t exist.”  
“Interesting. And you still don’t think they’re from a crime ring or similar?”

The dark knight steeples his fingers in front of his face. “I don’t doubt they’re from some form of organized unit, but my gut tells me it’s not going to be anything like the yakuza.”  
“I agree. They had ample opportunity to cause more damage and trouble than they did. Whoever they’re working for wants them to keep a low profile.”  
“On top of that,” Batman adds on, “it’s an organization that was able to take two boys with no respect for authority and reined them in. Whoever they work for isn’t going to be the typical small fry.”

The computer highlights more pertinent information. These are Shuichi Minamino’s commonly visited locations: his home, school, typical hangouts like restaurants and the park, two addresses that correspond to Yuusuke Urameshi and Kazuma Kuwabara’s houses, and oddly enough, a temple that’s well outside of town.

“Are they religious?” Superman questions. Batman doesn’t find that too likely.  
“It could be a metahuman hideaway,” Bruce suggests instead. “In a forest that big, people could get lost for days or stay hidden indefinitely. It may be where they meet all of their main contacts.”  
“Sounds like we need to go sightseeing.”

Their progress is interrupted by Batman’s ever faithful servant and friend, Alfred Pennyworth. “Oh my, are those young boys your culprits? They keep getting younger, don’t they?” The older man smooths his mustache as he looks the teenagers over. “The one with the slick-backed hair reminds me of when you were young, Master Bruce.”

Clark covers up a chuckle. No doubt that he’s trying to be polite.

“I would never have worn my hair like that,” denies the Wayne heir.  
“I beg to differ, but it’s a debate for another time. I must insist that you partake of lunch, Master Bruce. Will you be joining us, Mister Kent? I make a brilliant bread pudding.”

Superman smiles, an open and bright expression, and nods. “I would love to, Alfred. Give me a moment to dress down.”

Batman stands from his seat and heads inside the manor. He may as well put on a casual, but nice outfit since he has no misgivings that “Clark Kent” would pass up the chance for an interview about Project Sun Catcher.

His thoughts lock onto Kuro Sanza of Shirakotatsu Labs, the man who had gifted him the flute. Perhaps he has more he can say about his family’s keepsake than he initially led on. The location of his family’s ancient temple could be handy.

**Author's Note:**

> [Want to stay updated on my art and stories?](http://dawneastpoint.deviantart.com/journal/Check-Here-for-my-Updates-638603365)  
>  It'll be two steps because I'm not allowed to mention my personal blog on here.


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